Dr. John Tamilio III, Pastor

© 2021, Dr. Tamilio

Remember when you were a kid and you went back to school after Labor Day, the official end of the summer?  What was one of the first things your teacher had you do?  Write an essay telling the class how you spent your summer vacation.  I thought of this as I sat down to write this sermon because this is the last one that I will preach before going on sabbatical, which officially starts this Tuesday.

First, I want to thank all of you for this opportunity.  I explained before how this is the first sabbatical I have had since I was ordained in 1999.  The reason is simple: churches typically grant their pastors sabbaticals every seven years (which is where the name comes from), but this is the first church I served long enough to get one.  I am grateful for Rev. Dee who worked with Gloria Gilson to make sure that all the Sundays are covered by guest ministers and for church leadership (especially Jan Haughey, Joe Kendell, and the Pastor Parish Relations Committee) for making this happen.

The question people have been asking is the opposite of what teachers ask in September.  It isn’t how did you spend the summer — rather, it is what are you going to do this summer?  Good question.

I’m going fishing.  Actually, I hope to do some fishing, but that does not encapsulate my summer plans.  My plan is to use these three months doing a lot of research and reading on the subject of spiritual renewal.  Originally, I wanted to study evangelism, but my pre-sabbatical work has me seeing these two things (spiritual renewal and evangelism) as intertwined.  You grow the church (which is what evangelism is about) by offering people what they are looking for.  I am convinced that people today are looking for something that has spiritual depth.

People these days feel empty.  Life moves so fast.  Everything moves fast.  Let me give you just one example: television shows.  When I was a kid, I would wait all week to watch my favorite show.  We all did.  You’d spend half an hour watching M*A*S*H and would have to tune-in the next week to see the next episode.  The show ran at an even-pace and the commercials would take up about four minutes of the program in total.  Today?  We are in a rush.  We don’t wait all week to watch our favorite shows.  We binge watch.  We long onto Netflix or Hulu and watch an entire series in a weekend.  Binge is a word that used to be used to describe people who drank too much at a fraternity party.  Now, it is about watching TV.  And the shows?  Is it me or do the cast members speak 86 miles per hour?  Holy cow!  And the shows that have commercials?  They last longer than the shows themselves — and there’s a commercial break every ten minutes!

Life is so fast.  Then there is the speed at which things move at work, at school, and even with friends.  We are always going.  There is something that needs to be done — even if it is something we want to do.

People are tired.  They want a place where they can go that is free from time clocks, and smartphones, and whatever else has us sprinting for the finish lines we’ve put in place.  What better place than the church where you can sit in silence, breathe deep, and hear the Word of God!  The Sabbath is a day of rest, which is why we worship on this day.  Worship is meant to be restful and rejuvenating.  If we make it clear (and I mean crystal clear) that we offer that at this church, then people will be beating down the doors to come in.  People want this.  People want what we have.

Now here is the thing: for us to offer such spiritual sustenance for people, I need to feel it, too.  It isn’t that I don’t, mind you, but after over two decades in ministry I need a break.  Who doesn’t need a break?  You probably need a break from hearing me every week.  Other than vacations, you’ve had to listen to meet preach each week for almost nine years.  I wouldn’t want to listen to me preach each week for nine years.  I’d need a break, too!  But back to what I was saying — that spiritual rejuvenation that begins from the pulpit.

You may have heard others use this illustration before, but when you get on a plane and the flight attendant does the whole “We’ll be flying at 30,000 feet and if you are sitting by an exit” thing before you take-off, what does she say will happen in case there is a loss of cabin pressure?  An oxygen mask will come down from the ceiling.  Put on your mask and adjust the elastic straps.  And what do you do if you are traveling with someone who needs assistance?  Put your mask on before you help the other person.  The reason is clear: you will be in no shape to help another person if you don’t take care of yourself first.  It is a great metaphor.  The pulpit is no different.

COVID-19 is coming to an end.  As of yesterday, we no longer need to wear masks.  We are heading back to normal.  We can breathe again.  The timing is perfect.  After a few months of all of us feeling as if the ground isn’t moving anymore, we can roll up our sleeves and get back to work.  That’s when I will be coming back — recharged, rejuvenated, and ready to go!

Spend this summer thinking — and so will I.  What do we imagine when we think of the future of our church?  What will this place look like in five, ten, fifteen years?  My vision is that this will be a place of higher learning — where sound biblical scholarship is the norm.  (Dare I say still the norm?)  I also imagine it being a place where people come to drink deep from the wells of spiritual sustenance.  I am not saying that they cannot do that now.  I am saying that we — and I am including myself here — we can be more intentional in the way we offer and promote such nurture: be it through worship, educational opportunities, fellowship, or mission work.  The list goes on and on and on…  The idea is to dream and to be refreshed and ready to make those dreams become a reality.

So, my bibliography is ready — and my library card is my wallet for what I find when I roam the stack of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, which is actually about a five-minute drive from my house.  And oh yes, the fishing pole is ready, too.  See you in three months.  God bless you all.  Amen.